Nighttime Chat
by ShrinkedPink
Summary: Taking place during one of Sasori and Deidara's first missions together in the Akatsuki, Deidara seems to have had some trouble with sleeping. To take his mind off of things, he and Sasori discuss the reasons behind their differing views on art.


Sasori lazily skimmed through a couple of the books he was able to bring along on their mission. He was grateful that the moonlight allowed for some semblance of visibility, though he was beginning to grow annoyed. He decided to close the book. Upon looking up, he was met with blue eyes that seemed to pierce through the night's darkness.

"Deidara. You're doing it again. It won't be long until we are discovered and will end up having to fight. Do you honestly think you can hold up if you aren't sleeping much?"

The question only served to make the blonde more nervous. He was fully aware of sleep deprivation being a lethal setback on the battlefield. However, there was not much he could really do about his body lacking the will to sleep.

"I…" Deidara began, but shut his mouth and went back to that same facial expression: wondering, fearful, distant, alone… _obsessive_.

Sasori had seen many faces (dead and alive) contorted in many different ways. That being said, he had gotten eerily good at reading emotions and experiences through them. And oh, did fear skulk onto Deidara's face more than anything in that moment.

"Stop. This speechlessness and doubt isn't very becoming of you. What is it? If we're going to work together from now on, I should know about the things that make you like this."

"Ah, and I suppose that's a one-way street then, hn? Not like you've ever told me any of that stuff!" he fired back. Sasori raised an eyebrow.

 _Anger_. Followed by…disappointment?

"I think it was stupid of you and Itachi to force me into the Akatsuki. There. I said it! Are ya happy now?" Deidara confessed.

"Why does it bother you so much? If that were all there is, you wouldn't still be awake at ridiculous hours."

"I had other plans! Better things to do, yeah? I wanted to show the world my art, not fight in some group of rogues. Then, in seconds, that dream was taken from me. Nobody would need more than a few seconds to take my life, too. Then what?" Deidara responded, his breathing growing more rapid with anxiety.

Sasori sighed, then stared at Deidara with an oddly serious look. He waited a moment to process their conversation thus far and formulate his words.

"Then you fight. You're an _artist_ , aren't you? Show them the spirit and motivation in your work. Don't let petty circumstances stifle anything about you. You're a bit of a hot-headed brat, so it becomes easy to get wrapped up in the minute details. But that also shapes your work and personality, so utilize it. Don't be the idiot who lets your situation create you. It should be the other way around."

Deidara was shocked to hear that come from Sasori of all people. But he had to admit it was rather calming.

"Oi…I've been wondering about something since I met you, yeah?" he prompted with a smirk.

"And that is?"

"Wh-Why do you think art rests in things that are supposedly eternal?" Deidara questioned, an unusual stutter lacing his words.

"It is simple. Art is meant to be perceived differently by everyone. Everlasting pieces allow for the greatest level of perspective, or the greatest amount of influence. Besides, who would go through the effort of creating something just for it to get destroyed?"

"Ah, but you are wrong there. Art that is fleeting is also unique because it can't be replicated, no matter how hard you try. I would think that one strong memory could last longer than your art, right? I mean, it's those memories that influence someone to create memories for others in turn." Deidara chimed in. Sasori stated that the real answer may be more complex than anything either of them said. Deidara agreed.

As he looked out into the sky, Deidara was reminded of the moon on that night. He was reminded of many other conversations like that they'd had during his more restless moments. Now, everything was a blur. He thought his masterpiece was well received, only to find out he had died for nothing. As things were now, he was stuck in an unperishable body through Orochimaru and Kabuto's ridiculous jutsu. Deidara began to feel rather trapped. He felt alone again, which was not something he could have said with Sasori as his partner. Come to think of it, he wanted to ask Sasori one day how he'd managed to find peace within his work.

 **A/N: Hey, so this is my first time writing a fanfic in over a year. Trying to get back into things, so I hope this was not too bad. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, and I hope you liked it!**


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